


Letting Go

by orphan_account



Series: Safe [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dom/sub, F/F, F/M, M/M, R plus L equal (adopted) J, past abusive relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-30
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-08-27 21:44:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8417974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Jon moves back home after things in California become too much, hoping to move past the ugliness of his relationship with Ramsay and everything about himself that it had dragged to the suffer, swearing off romance for good as a result.Unfortunately, he's still as much in love with Robb as he had always been.





	1. Chapter One

“Mom, I really don’t think I’ll be able to make it,” Jon said insistently, trying to stave off her hundredth attempt into getting him to socialize more. At least this time, her suggestion was a family event, but he _knew_ it was mostly to get him reacquainted with his cousins again so that they could drag him out of his shell. His mother was anything but subtle. “I’m still getting settled into the apartment and the new job is keeping me really busy…”

“Jon, you’ve been settled into the apartment for nearly two months,” Lyanna replied in exasperation. “I know because Rhaegar and I were the ones who _settled_ you in the apartment, remember?”

He did remember. His parents had been thrilled at the idea of him moving back to New York. He knew that they hadn’t wanted him to attend a West Coast school in the first place, and had been severely disappointed when he had gotten a job there instead of coming home. Of course, considering staying in California was probably the worst decision of his life, he couldn’t even fault them for their dogged determination to encourage him to put down as deep of roots as possible in New York.

He pushed away that train of thought. He didn’t like where it led. He had moved back to New York to forget, to try to put it all behind him.

“Everyone has been asking about you coming around,” she continued. “Robb and Arya have been particularly persistent.”

Something in his stomach fluttered at the thought of Robb, but he quickly beat it down. He had always had a ridiculous crush on his older cousin. He had always justified it to himself by the fact that they weren’t _technically_ blood-related because of Jon’s adoption, but even if he could convince himself it was allowed, he had never dared believed he had a shot with _Robb_.

Besides, he had long since decided that it was just better if he didn’t bother with love, sex, or anything even remotely related to either.

“Mom, I…,” he sighed heavily, not entirely sure how he was supposed to tell her he wasn’t ready to face anyone just yet. Not even family, and _especially_ not in one big gathering. He had never liked being in a crowd of people. Even as a child, he had spent most of their family functions glued to one of his cousins’ side, usually Robb’s but sometimes Arya’s or Sansa’s, needing an anchor even in a sea of familiar and friendly faces.

After everything with Ramsay, though, he wasn’t sure how he’d ever face any of them again.

Lyanna sighed. “Please, Jon,” she said, her voice taking on a sad tone that was definitely not fair. “You’ve been gone for so long and, now that you’re back, it’s like you’re not _really_ back. Please? Just one barbecue.” 

After that kind of plead, there really wasn’t a way he could refuse without sounding like a complete asshole. “Alright,” he conceded in defeat. “I’ll come.”

 

#

 

Jon sat in his car and gazed at his grandparents’ house in hesitation. His mother had said that everyone was coming over around noon, so he had carefully timed it so that he arrived at 12:10, not wanting to be earlier but not wanting to be late either. Considering the cars in the drive and on the curb, though, he was obviously one of the last ones to arrive.

He could do this. It was just his family. People who _loved_ him. He could face them for a few hours. It’s not like they would be able to read the type of person he had somehow become by just looking at him.

Jon jumped as someone tapped on his window, head snapping away from the house to gawk dumbly at his cousin’s grinning face.

“Jon!” Robb greeted jovially before cocking an eyebrow at the door. “Are you going to just sit there?”

He shook himself out of his stupor and quickly got out of the car. “Sorry, you startled me,” he said as he closed the door.

Robb just grinned at him before pulling into a tight embrace. “God, I’ve missed you,” he said, letting the hug linger. Jon didn’t mind. It made no sense, but for the first time in a while, he felt _safe_.

With great reluctance, he pulled away, knowing that if he indulged too long, he would slip back into wanting more.

More never worked out for him, even when the person he wanted wasn’t so impossible.

“I missed you, too,” he replied with a small smile. “Sorry I’ve been gone so long.”

Robb shook his head, throwing an arm around Jon’s shoulder and leading him towards the house. “Just don’t do it again, alright? I don’t care what kind of job offer you get on the other side of the country. You belong here with us.”

Jon smiled a bit more genuinely at that, something inside of him melting at the warm acceptance. He could do this. He could be the Jon that belonged with Robb and the rest of his family. He could forget about Ramsay and the dark road of realization his ex had started him down.

That part of himself could be shut away. He had gone eighteen years of his life before Ramsay without acknowledging it. He just had to forget.

He had barely walked into his grandparents’ house before he was knocked away from Robb by a smaller figure nearly tackling with the strength of her hug.

“Jon!” Arya cried jubilantly, beaming at him as she stepped back. Knowing her like he did, he expected the sharp jab of her fist into his shoulder that came next. She hugged him again after the punch, which he returned while catching Robb’s amused look and rolling his eye in response. 

“It’s about time you showed your ugly face around here,” she scolded him as she finally released him, only to grab his hand and tug him towards the backyard. “Come on! Everyone can’t wait to see you again!”

Robb laughed when Jon shot him a panicked glance and followed them closely. “Don’t look so worried, Jon. We’re not going to abandon you.”

He gave him a grateful look. “Who all is here?” he asked, feeling a lot less nervous knowing that Robb and Arya were going to stick close to him.

“Mostly just family,” Arya assured him. “A few friends of the family.”

He and Arya had a very different understanding of the word “few,” he discovered, as stepped out onto the patio. His grandparents’ expansive backyard was packed with people. He should have known, really. When Grandmother Lyarra never did things by half.

It was just like his mother to forget to mention that this so-call family barbecue was one of his Grandmother’s social events.

“There’s my beautiful boy!” his mother’s voice called out, as if summoned by Jon’s thoughts. The way she embraced him, you would think she hadn’t just seen him last week. She pulled back with a bright smile on her face just as his father clasped him on his shoulder.

“Son,” Rhaegar greeted with a slightly dreamy smile.

Jon returned their smiles fondly. With everyone else at the barbecue was dressed in the typical garden party attire, his parents looked woefully out of place. Where most of the women at the party were either wearing sedate sundresses, his mother stood out in her bright, multi-colored gypsy skirt and tank top. And next to the men in button-ups and dress pants, his father’s flannel shirt and jeans looked a bit ridiculous, especially with his long silver-blond hair hanging loose at his shoulders.

People had long since stopped expecting Rhaegar and Lyanna Targaryen to fit into the crowd, though. There had been times when he was growing up that he had wished his parents would be a bit more normal, but he wouldn’t change them for the world.

It was funny how you grew to appreciate people more once your were away for a while.

“You didn’t tell me so many people were going to be here, Mom,” he said in accusation.

Lyanna shrugged. “You don’t have to speak to them if you don’t want,” she replied dismissively. “You don’t owe any of them your time. Just talk to who you want.”

Right now, Jon really just wanted to retreat into the house and hide from everyone he could see shooting him curious glances. Of course, though his parents might be comfortable doing whatever they wanted without worrying about anyone else, that particular attitude had never rubbed off on Jon.

“I see my wayward grandson has finally decided to visit his poor grandparents,” his Grandmother Lyarra said as she and his grandfather descended on them. She gave Jon a once over. “You are far too pale and skinny. You haven’t been taking care of yourself.”

“Now don’t scold the boy when he’s just gotten here,” Rickard told her, giving Jon a wink. “We don’t want to scare him off.”

Lyarra pursed her lips. “I’m not scolding him. I’m trying to look after him. That’s my job as his grandmother.”

“I promise I’m taking care of myself, Grandmother,” Jon said, flushing a bit at the attention. He had certain lost weight in the past couple of years. There had been times where he just hadn’t been able to summon the energy to eat. It had driven Sam and Ygritte crazy with worry, but he had been doing better recently.

“Leave it to Jon to come back from California even paler than he left,” Arya quipped, nudging him with her elbow. “He probably spent all his time holed up inside studying and working.”

“Thank God he came back so that we can teach him how to have fun again,” Robb added, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and giving him a warm smile.

“And how to eat,” his grandmother sniffed. “Robb, Arya, take him to get some food before a stiff wind comes by and knocks him over.”

Robb and Arya both snorted at that, but did as Lyarra asked and led Jon over to the long table full of food that was set up on the left side of the patio.

“I don’t need chaperones to make sure I eat,” Jon grumbled, but allowed himself to be led anyway. Of course, before they reached the food, they were accosted once again, this time by their uncles.

“Jon!” Brandon greeted loudly, pulling him from Robb and giving him a great bear hug. Jon was fairly certain that his name had never been said so much before. 

Benjen gave him a more sedate nod as a greeting. “How have you been, son?”

“Glad to be home,” he answered honestly. Before he could say anything else, though, Robb and Arya’s parents joined them. “Uncle Ned, Aunt Cat,” he said, not even surprised when his aunt swept him into a warm hug before handing him off to her husband for another one.

“It’s good to have you home,” his Uncle Ned told him softly as he stepped back.

“It really is, Jon,” Cat said, giving him a happy smile. “I like having my kids close.”

He gave a pleased smile at that. Uncle Ned and Aunt Cat had been like second parents to him growing up. Lyanna had bought the house next to her brother as soon as she knew that they would be getting Jon, wanting him to grow up with Robb. 

It had worked, as he and Robb had been fairly inseparable growing up. And since Jon had realized as he grew older that his parents’ advice, while well-meaning, often clashed with what most people called “normal,” he often went to Uncle Ned or Aunt Cat when he had a problem.

“I hope you’re home for good,” Cat continued with a hopeful gleam in her eyes.

“Don’t worry, Mom, we’re not going to let him get away anytime soon,” Robb answered for him. “But now Arya and I have been ordered by Grandmother to get some food in Jon because she thinks he’s too thin.”

She gave him a critical look and nodded as if agreeing with the assessment.

Jon gave them a parting smile as Robb and Arya led him to the food, and they all began filling a plate, Robb and Arya occasionally placing extra food on his plate with a sober look, eyes sparkling with mischief.

Anxiety was building within him as they grabbed drinks, knowing that as soon as they stepped off the patio, even more people would approach him to talk. As much as he was dreading facing his family, facing everyone in his grandparents’ social circle was a hundred times worse.

He was surprised, then, when Robb gave him a meaningful look before turning and heading back into the house. Frowning, Jon followed him and smiled as he realized that Robb as leading him and Arya to the upstairs den that had long since been designated as the “grandkids’ den.”

Arya quickly claimed the large, round barrel chair by the window, pulling her legs up folding them across each other in front of her. Jon followed Robb to the sectional, taking a seat on the end nearest Arya as Robb sat down on the cushion next to him.

Jon didn’t know how to express his gratitude to them for leaving the main party with him. He knew he should say _something_ , but the words were stuck in his throat. Before he could get them out, Bran and Rickon entered into the room boisterously, grinning as they plopped their plates and drinks down on the coffee table and sprawled out on the floor opposite Robb and Jon.

“Excellent escape plan,” Bran declared as he took a large bite of his burger.

“Seriously,” Rickon agreed with a roll of his eyes. “I was going to scream if one more old person told me how much I have grown.”

“At least they weren’t asking you when you were going to find a nice boy to settle down with,” Sansa remarked as she loped into the room with Margaery Tyrell, her longtime girlfriend. She scowled as they joined Robb and Jon on the sectional. “It was very rude.”

Robb frowned. “Who was saying that?”

Margaery placed a placating hand on Sansa’s arm. “Just your Aunt Branda,” she replied with a shake of her head. “You know how she is. Eight seven years old and wants to make everyone as miserable as she is. And I’m fairly certain your grandmother is giving her a tongue lashing about it.”

Sansa sniffed. “She deserves it. Arya, where’s Gendry?” she asked, changing the subject.

“Working,” her sister replied before narrowing her eyes. “And don’t think I don’t know why you ask. I’m not letting you throw Gendry in Branda’s path just to take some of the heat off of you.”

“Why doesn’t Aunt Branda like Gendry?” Jon asked, exceedingly grateful that, for the first time that day, the conversation wasn’t about _him_.

“She thinks he’s _beneath_ us because he’s a mechanic,” Arya answered with a scowl, stabbing at a cucumber with her fork harshly. “At least he has a useful skill and contributes to society. What’s that old hag ever done but marry rich? Just because she doesn’t have her own kids and grandkids to control, doesn’t mean she can force her will on us.”

Jon was suddenly very glad he had managed to avoid Aunt Branda outside.

Conversation continued to flow among the Stark cousins as they finished up eating and began contemplating whether it was worth braving the rest of the party for desserts. Jon personally didn’t think it was as he lounged back on the sectional drowsily, full from eating all the food that Robb and Arya had loaded on his plate. He was aware that he was drifting sideways a bit into Robb, but decided that it didn’t hurt anything. It wasn’t like there was any intention behind it. Besides, Robb was leaning his way as well.

Ultimately, Bran and Rickon were sent to bring back enough desserts for everyone, and they returned with four plates piled high with slices of cake, cookies, and brownies. Despite being so full he could barely move, Jon managed to eat the cookie and brownie Robb passed his way, knowing his weakness for anything chocolate.

Uncle Ned appeared in the doorway an hour or so later. “It’s safe to come out now,” he told them with a smirk. “Everyone has pretty much left.”

Jon glanced at his phone to get the time and sighed. “I should probably head out now, too,” he said, feeling a bit sad to leave. “I’ve got to go in early tomorrow to prepare for a presentation.”

Arya plucked the phone out of his hand before he could stand, typing something in quickly before tossing it to Bran, who passed it to Rickon. In bewilderment, he watched as his phone made its way around the room before finally ending up with Robb, who typed something in before finally returning it to Jon with a grin.

“Now you can’t hide from us,” he said in satisfaction. “None of us had your new number to get a hold of you before so we couldn’t pull you out of your shell, but we’re not letting you get away with that.”

He flushed. “Sorry. I just… forgot.”

All of his old contacts had been in his old phone, which he had ended up smashing right before he moved back to New York. It hadn’t been his finest moment as he let his emotions get the best of him, but it had stopped Ramsay from calling and texting him. He hadn’t even realized that his cousins hadn’t had his new number. No wonder they hadn’t tried to call him.

Robb ended up walking him out, bumping his shoulder with a grin as they approached Jon’s car. “It really is good to have you back. I kinda felt like I was missing my other half, you know?”

Jon gave him a rueful smile. “I’m sure you did fine without me.”

“No, I didn’t,” Robb told him, placing a hand on his elbow to stop him as he gave him a serious look. “Jon, the day you left for California was the worst day of my life. I mean, I understand why you went. Stanford was a great opportunity, and I don’t blame you at all for taking it. It’s just… I thought you would have come home after. Or at least visited more during the breaks.”

“I wanted to!” Jon protested, hating how sad Robb looked. He then wanted to kick himself. How was he supposed to explain why he didn’t? Still, despite how much he definitely wanted to hide from all of his family, he needed to be as honest as possible with all that he could. “I missed you all so much, Robb. It killed me not to come home for holidays.”

Ramsay hadn’t allowed it, of course. God, he had been such an idiot.

“Why didn’t you?” Robb asked, confused.

Jon bit his lip and looked down. “I don’t really want to talk about it,” he muttered, wanting to keep his life with Ramsay completely separate from his life with his family. He had let his ex taint far too much of his life, but he wasn’t going to let him taint this. “But I am _really_ happy to be back,” he said earnestly, silently begging Robb to drop it.

His cousin gazed at him seriously before nodding once and pulling Jon into another tight embrace. “I’m happy you’re back, too,” he murmured, pulling away. “I’ll text you, okay? We’ll get together again soon.”

Jon smiled. “I’d like that.”

He got into his car with a warm feeling in his chest, glancing back in his rearview mirror as he pulled away from the curb to see Robb watching him leave. As much as he was dreading the barbecue, he was very glad he had gone. Seeing his cousins had transported him back to a time where he didn’t feel so wrong.

And if his stupid crush on Robb was creeping back in, well, it didn’t mean anything. Nothing would ever come of it anyway.

tbc…


	2. Interlude: Freshman Year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I decided it would be easier for the reader to get a full view of Jon and Ramsay's relationship if I wrote interludes detailing each of Jon's years in California. This is the first one. We'll get back to the Jon/Robb goodness next chapter (though there's a bit of that at the end of this one ;) )

Sometimes Jon wondered if his life would have been better if Sam hadn’t had meningitis and missed that first quarter at Stanford. He was sure that, had Sam come that first quarter as planned, he would never had gotten together with Ramsay.

Samwell Tarly was his assigned roommate his freshman year. Many of his classmates would probably think that ending up with a dorm room with no roommate would be the height of luck. They were probably better at making friends than Jon, though.

To be fair, it had never been a skill he had had to develop. Though Robb was nearly a year older than him, his birthday fell just a few days shy of the cut-off date to begin school, resulting in both of them being in the same grade. He and Robb had done everything together growing up. And with as introverted as he was, whatever friends Jon had made were made through Robb’s more easy outgoing nature.

Just the idea of going alone to any club meeting on campus had caused him to cringe. He wasn’t great at making small talk with strangers, and the whole getting-to-know-each-other icebreakers mostly just gave him anxiety. And it was easy for him to sit quietly in class and let the conversation of others around him wash over him.

After meeting Sam when he came for the winter quarter, Jon knew that the two of them together would have given each other support and encouragement they both needed to be more outgoing and meet people. He knew because that’s what _happened_. It’s how they had met Tormund, Val, and Ygritte.

But Sam hadn’t been there for the autumn quarter, and it didn’t take two weeks for Jon to contemplate transferring to a New York school. Robb was doing his pre-med at Columbia. Its engineering program wasn’t nearly as good as Stanford’s, but it was still good. He could have finished up that quarter and then transferred. He remembered wondering why he had ever thought it was a good idea to move across country for school.

And then, he had met Ramsay.

He hadn’t known what to make of the junior at first. He had just plopped his tray down on Jon’s table on day at lunch and started talking as if they had known each other for years. Jon had been entirely flummoxed by the situation, trying to keep up with the conversation but not really understanding what was going on.

It had hardly been love at first sight. His relationship with Ramsay had never really been about love.

The first week he had known the junior, Jon wasn’t exactly sure he liked him. He had _definitely_ not been attracted to him. His face too broad, his mouth small with lips too wide and meaty, the blue of his eyes too pale.

Gradually, though, the other boy had grown on him, if nothing else because he was usually the only in-the-flesh person he spoke to outside of classes. And no matter how many texts or phones calls he had shared with Robb and the rest of his family, having someone _there—_ to eat meals, to do laundry, to workout, to go to movies—was _different_.

Ramsay had assuaged his loneliness and filled behind the void that the sudden absence of Robb’s constant presence has left behind. Not that he filled it _well_. It was like trying to fit a twin-sized sheet over a full-sized mattress. You had something to sleep on, but it didn’t quite fit.

Except in this case, Jon had some _one_ to sleep _with_.

On some level, he had known his relationship with Ramsay was toxic from the first time the older student had crowded him against the door of his dorm room and captured his lips in a forceful kiss. It was why he had never told any of his family about it. Still, despite being caught off guard by the kiss, he had _liked_ it.

He wished he could blame his… _proclivities_ … on Ramsay. Since the older student had been his first, it would have been easy. But he couldn’t say that Ramsay had _conditioned_ him to like what he liked. He hadn’t even _liked_ a lot of the things Ramsay did to him in bed. He put up with those things so that Ramsay would give him what he _needed_ , but he hadn’t _liked_ them.

Things had changed when Sam had finally moved in, in some ways for the better, in some for the worse, but he had stayed with Ramsay.

In hindsight, it had been one of the dumbest decision of his life, but hindsight was, as they say, 20/20.

 

#

 

Sam frowned at him as he laced up his shoes. “You’re going to Ramsay’s, aren’t you?”

Jon sighed. Sam had disliked Ramsay since he met him. Considering how kind and good-natured his roommate was, Jon knew it probably said something about Ramsay that he didn’t want to admit to himself, but he wasn’t ready to give up the one thing that had gotten him through autumn quarter.

He knew he should. The fact that he kept Ramsay a secret from even _Robb_ when he went home for Christmas and Spring Break spoke volumes. He _knew_ his relationship was Ramsay wasn’t healthy, and now that he had friends outside of him, he didn’t have to worry about being lonely without Ramsay.

If only he could shut off the dark part deep inside him that craved what Ramsay gave him, even if it was beginning to wear on him emotionally.

“He is my boyfriend, and it _is_ Friday night,” Jon said, giving Sam a challenging look. He didn’t need his friend guilting him when he already felt bad enough.

“You’re too good for him, Jon,” Sam declared, shocking Jon a bit when he didn’t back down. Sam wasn’t really the type to take a stand on anything. “And I don’t like how he tries to control you.”

He snorted, almost quipping that he _liked_ being controlled, but that was more than he was ready to admit. “Do you really think I would let anyone make me do anything I didn’t want to do?” he asked instead. “Ramsay doesn’t _control_ me.”

“Then how come you do everything he asks you to do?” his roommate shot back.

“I do not do _everything_ he asks me to do,” Jon protested.

Sam gave him an incredulous look. “Jon, last week when he came by, he told you to change your shirt and you _did_.”

He flushed at that. “Because he said the other one looked better and he was _right_ ,” he argued, remembering the incident well. Sam didn’t understand the shiver of lust that ran through him at Ramsay’s satisfied smirk and heated look after he changed. “He didn’t _make_ me change shirts. I _chose_ to.”

His friend looked far from satisfied with the answer, but Jon kept talking before he could say anything else. “I probably won’t be back tonight. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He grabbed his phone and keys and was out the door before Sam could get another word in. He tried to put the conversation out of his mind as he drove to Ramsay’s off-campus apartment. Sam didn’t understand. Sam _couldn’t_ understand. Hell, _Jon_ barely understood. He knew Sam was probably right to worry, but he was _fine_. He had everything under control.

Something relaxed in him as he stepped into Ramsay’s apartment, the same something that kept him from ending things with the other man. It felt freeing to be able to put himself in Ramsay’s hands, his boyfriend not expecting anything from him.

Ramsay smiled brightly at him as he led him to the bedroom. Jon frowned a bit at that, but followed without protest. They didn’t typically go straight to sex, but from the bright smile, Jon figured Ramsay must have something special planned.

He frowned at the dimmed lights and candles surrounding the room. It was… different. Their relationship had never been all that romantic. The only that had really changed after they had gotten together was that they began making out before quickly progressing to having sex. Other than that, they spent their time doing the same type of things they had done before.

Did Ramsay want to change that? Jon wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

The door shutting behind them made an ominously loud sound, but he pushed his apprehension away.

“Strip,” Ramsay ordered without preamble.

Jon hastily complied, comforted by the familiar beginning of their play.

“On your back on the bed.”

He felt Ramsay’s eyes on him as he lay down, not particularly liking how exposed he felt, but he knowing it’d get better.

“Hands together above your head.”

Jon furrowed his brow but slowly brought his hands up as he was told, even if he was confused over the command. He craned his head to eye Ramsay nervously as he crossed the room and opened a drawer on his dresser. Jon saw him grab a few objects, but wasn’t able to see what they _were_.

Ramsay all but jumped onto the bed, swinging a leg over Jon to straddle his torso. He leaned over him, grabbing one of his wrists before clipping something cold clicked into place around it. Jon looked up in time to see Ramsay closing the other handcuff on his other wrist, the chain wrapped around a wooden slat on the headboard.

Before he could react, Ramsay grabbed the back of his head and tugged him up into a biting kiss. Jon groaned, letting himself relax into the kiss. He wanted this, he reminded himself. He _wanted_ to give up control, and if it became too much, he could end it.

Ramsay pulled back with a smirk. “We’re going to have fun tonight,” he promised. “We should celebrate the end of spring quarter.”

He let Jon’s head fall back onto the pillow before trailing kisses down his neck, one hand on Jon’s hip while the other caressed his side. Jon sighed and closed his eyes, allowing the sensations to flow over him. Different was nice, he decided, a shuddering gasp escaping him as Ramsay’s tongue laved over his nipple.

He let himself relax into Ramsay's touch as he slipped into the same floaty head space that he always did during sex. It had never felt this good before. It felt so good, in fact, that he barely noticed the cold metal snapping around the base of his cock.  He bit his lip as he felt his orgasm mounting only to cry out in dismay as it was blocked by the tight ring .

“Shh,” Ramsay said, looking gleeful as he rubbed a hand over Jon’s abdomen. “You’re doing so well, Jon.”

Despite his frustration, the praise caused him to flush in pleasure as Ramsay’s hand moved up to play with his right nipple. His eyes slid closed again as he struggled to get his breathing back under control.

Jon was sobbing before the night was over, Ramsay having drawn five more strangled orgasms from him. Any pleasure had long since become pain, and once Ramsay _finally_ slipped the cock ring off, after he had already taken Jon twice, he blacked out as his orgasm _finally_ ripped out of him.

His senses came back to him just as Ramsay was unlocking one of the handcuffs, throwing the key on the bed next to Jon before rolling off. “You have become such a good little sub for me,” he praised, giving his trembling lips a kiss.

Jon stared after him as he walked into the bathroom and shut the door behind him. Tremors wracked his body as he stared at the closed door, mind finally beginning to process and question what had just happened.

His body felt used and ached all over. Emotionally, he felt raw and wrung out, swallowing down tears that he didn’t even understand.

Why had he let Ramsay keep going? The pain and helplessness had become unbearable by the third denied orgasm. Why hadn’t he _said_ something? Had he gotten so used to letting Ramsay have his way?

How had he let things go so bad?

He sat up and grabbed the handcuff key, hands shaking so badly that it took him longer than it should have to get the small key into the hole and release the locking mechanism. He grabbed a few tissues from the nightstand and wiped as much of the sticky come from his stomach and thighs before quickly getting dressed.

Jon’s chest felt tight as he rushed down the stairs of the apartment building and to his car. What was wrong with him? How did he fix this? _Could_ he fix it?

Breaking things off with Ramsay was necessary. That decision he had been able to make before he had even gotten dressed. But this wasn’t _Ramsay’s_ fault. This was _his_ fault. All he had to do was _say_ something. What kind of person _chooses_ to let someone hurt him?

He didn’t know how long he sat in his car, not trusting himself to drive. All he wanted was to go back to his dorm room, wrap himself in his blankets, and sleep until at least Monday. But his hands were still shaking, his head still spinning, and he was sure that trying to drive was an accident waiting to happen.

He had to calm down. He tried taking deep breaths, but it didn’t help. He had to get his mind off of what had happened and the flood of realizations that had resulted.

And the best way to do that, he figured, was to talk to someone who knew nothing about Ramsay.

“Jon!” Robb’s jubilant voice greeted him after the phone rang twice. His voice made Jon’s heart _ache_ with longing. God, he wished Robb were here. Robb always made everything better. Forget wanting to be wrapped in his blankets, heaven right now would be being wrapped in Robb’s arms.

“Robb,” he said, voice breaking a bit to his shame.

“What’s wrong?” his cousin asked urgently. “Are you alright?”

Jon swallowed and tried to compose himself a bit so that he didn’t sound too weird. “I’m fine,” he lied. “Just tired. It’s been a long week. I’m not calling too late, am I?”

He had no idea what time it was, but he hadn’t left his dorm room until nearly eight, so it was at least nine. He winced as he realized it could be well past midnight in New York by now.

“Of course not!” Robb assured him. “I just got back from hanging out with some friends, so I wasn’t asleep. Besides, you can always call me.”

Jon smiled. “Thanks,” he replied gratefully. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.

“No,” Jon was quick to reply, wanting to do anything _but_ talk about it. “I just… wanted to hear your voice. Tell me about your night.”

Thankfully, Robb didn’t press him for answers, instead telling him about Theon dragging him and Dacey to a house party. Jon let his cousin’s voice wash over him and sooth him, only vaguely following the story itself.

“So Theon’s talking to this girl,” Robb continued, laughter in his voice. “Beautiful girl, blonde hair, blue eyes, straight guy’s dream. And you can tell that Theon is sure that she’s into him. He’s smirking as she talks to him about something or another, I can’t hear because the music is too loud. Suddenly, Dacey is crossing the room and begins flirting with the girl. Two minutes later, they’re leaving the party hand-in-hand as Theon stares after them stupidly.”

Jon chuckled at that. “I bet Theon loved that.”

“Well, I certainly enjoyed it,” he quipped. “Theon left the party alone, in case you were wondering. Unless you can’t me, which you most definitely should not,” he added with a laugh. “Theon is definitely not my type.”

“That’s good because I’m not sure Aunt Cat would approve of such a playboy,” Jon joked.

“Probably not,” Robb agreed, laughter trailing off as he asked seriously, “Feel better?”

Physically, no, but he felt much less panicky than he had before he called. “Loads. Thanks.”

“I’m always here for you, Jon. You know that. When are you coming home for summer?” he asked, changing the subject.

Jon sighed. “I’m not. I’m taking summer classes.”

“What?” Robb cried in dismay. “You already ending school like a month after we did, and now you’re not even taking a summer break?”

He winced guiltily. “I’ll have a few weeks at the end of the summer I may be able to come back, but I want to get as many classes out of the way as I can. That way, I can finish sooner.”

“Well, you better get your butt back to New York as soon as you finish,” Robb groused. Jon had to smile because he could just imagine the spectacular pout that was gracing his cousin’s face. “We miss you over here.”

“I miss you too,” he replied honestly. “But I’m tired and I should really get going. I’ll talk to you later?”

“You better. Night, Jon.”

“Night, Robb.”

Talking to Robb calmed him enough so that he was able to drive back to campus without having a wreck. Sam was surprised to see him but didn’t say a word as Jon grabbed some things and ran off to the shower, needing to wash the night off of him before he fell into bed.

Thankfully, Sam restrained himself to only sending him a worried look when he returned and crawled into bed. Jon was grateful. After finding some peace from talking to Robb, he didn’t really want to drag things up again tonight.

He would be alright, he decided as he let his exhaustion drag him under. He would break things off with Ramsay, and he would forget all about this person he had somehow become while with him.

Ramsay was going home for the summer, after all, Jon would have three months without him around before sophomore year. Plenty of time to sort himself out.

tbc…


	3. Chapter Two

Jon got the text around noon, just as he was pulling out the sandwich he had packed for lunch.

_Don’t eat too much at lunch! I’m cooking at your apt tonite!_

He chuckled to himself and shook his head. He should have known that it wouldn’t take too long for Robb to make plans for them. He quickly typed back a message.

_Since when can you cook?_

_Oh, just you wait ;)_

Jon was very glad that his presentation had been that morning because he was thoroughly distracted for the rest of the day. It was a good thing that the schematics and design he had included in his presentation had been met with overwhelming approval, or he would have had to focus on redoing them. Thankfully, he had already begun working on the programing. The rest could wait for tomorrow.

He left work as soon as the clock hit five, unable to sit still any longer. He checked his phone as he made his way to the elevator, smiling as he saw he had another text from Robb.

_Address?_

Jon sent back the address of his apartment before calling the elevator. He considered forgoing the subway and just walking to his apartment for half a second before quickly discarding it. His apartment was a little under three miles away, which wasn’t far, but not exactly within easy walking distance. If he had chosen his own apartment, he would have chosen one a bit closer so that he could have avoided the subway altogether.

Not that he could really complain, he reminded himself firmly as he walked the block to the nearest station. His parents had bought him a very spacious apartment as soon as he had told them he was moving back and had had it completely furnished for him. Considering how expensive space was in the city, he was certain that they had spent far too much on it all. He really didn’t need all the space just for himself, but it was nice.

The only downside was that it forced him to take the subway to work.

Jon tried to make himself as small as possible as he huddled against the wall as the train began moving. The only benefit of the crowded space was that people were quick to ignore you if you didn’t get in their way. That was the _only_ benefit though.

The subway wasn’t really that much quicker than driving to work, but parking was so expensive that it didn’t make economic sense to drive. It was something that his parents had probably never bothered to consider. Both the Starks and the Targaryens were old money. Honestly, Jon had never really given much thought to spending money either, having been set up with trust funds from both set of grandparents. He probably would have still been as carefree about money, but Ramsay hadn’t liked it when he spent money without asking for permission.

Jon forcefully pushed thoughts of his ex away as the train slowed to a stop and he pushed his way off. He had to stop thinking about Ramsay. It had been over a year since he had left the other man, and he had moved to New York to forget about all of those bad memories. That was never going to happen if he kept _thinking_ about them.

“Good afternoon, sir,” Barristan, the doorman, greeted him as he approached, opening the door for him with a pleasant smile. Though in his sixties, the doorman was tall and muscular, moving with the grace of a panther and, Jon suspected, always armed. He knew enough from listening to the other inhabitants of the building that Barristan had become the doorman right around the time Jon had moved in.

Yet another feature of his apartment that his parents had had a hand in. Though why they thought he needed a bodyguard, Jon would never know.

“Afternoon, Barristan,” he replied, too grateful to slip away from the rush-hour crowds to worry about what his parents getting him a bodyguard implied. “My cousin Robb is coming by for dinner so just let him up when he gets here,” he added, wondering how much background about his family the man had been given. Would he know who Robb was by sight?

“Of course, sir,” the doorman/bodyguard answered simply.

“Thanks,” Jon mumbled as he walked into the building, not at all used to the deferential treatment afforded to him by the man.

Despite being a bit flustered about _having_ a bodyguard masquerading as a doorman, Jon had to admit that it allowed him to feel a bit more secure in his home. It wasn’t that he actually thought that Ramsay would follow him to New York, but it was nice to know that in the unlikely event that he _did_ , he would never be able to get by the imposing figure of Barristan Selmy.

He took the elevator to the fourth floor and sighed as he entered the apartment, happy to be home even if it was ridiculously big.

He took a moment to survey his apartment, satisfied that it was presentable, before he made his way towards his bedroom. He stripped out of his work clothes and hopped into the shower, letting himself enjoy the hot stream of water for a little bit before shampooing his hair and soaping up his body. He let the suds wash away completely before turning off the water and toweling dry, being sure to vigorously scrub his hair to get as much excess water off as possible.

Jon had barely had time to pull on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt before his doorbell was ringing. He glanced at the clock and frowned. It was only a quarter to six, and he knew Robb’s shift at the hospital ended at five. Surely he hadn’t had time to make it home and then come all the way to Jon’s place in such a short time?

Sure enough, though, Robb was standing on his doormat, arms full of two large brown papers bag as he grinned at Jon.

“So apparently we’re neighbors. Or near enough,” he informed him as he walked in, making a beeline for the kitchen and beginning to unpack the bags. 

“What?” Jon asked, following him and making to help only to be stopped by a playful wag of Robb’s finger.

“Uh uh, I’m doing all the work tonight,” he said with a wink before he went back to sorting the groceries. “And it turns out your building is only about a block from mine, though admittedly it’s much nicer.”

Jon snorted and moved to hunt down the pots and pans Robb would need, recognizing from the raw ingredients that he was making some sort of sausage pasta dish. “It pays to be an only child, I guess, but I think my parents went a bit overboard.”

“I think it’s less to do with that and more to do with guilting you into staying,” Robb replied with a laugh. “It’s harder for you to move to California after they dropped a few million to buy you this place.”

He cringed as he fished his colander out of the back of his bottom cabinet. “I think it’s safe to say that I _never_ want to move back to California,” he admitted with a sigh as he stood up and placed the colander on the counter. “I was never really happy there.”

Robb looked at him with a concerned frown. “You were there six years. That’s a long time to not be happy.”

Jon shrugged. “I should have come home sooner, I know.” Boy, did he know. “I guess I was just afraid that coming home wouldn’t make me happy either. That maybe _I_ was the problem.”

“Are you happy now?” he asked worriedly.

He gave him a reassuring smile. “Yeah, I am.”

Maybe if someone had asked him that last week, the answer might have been different. Not that he was _unhappy_ , like he had been in California, but after spending yesterday reconnecting with his cousins and now having Robb cooking dinner in his apartment, he could honestly say that he was happy.

The worry lines on Robb’s forehead smoothed out as he gave Jon a soft smile. “Good.”

Their eyes met and the moment seemed to stretch between them, building into something that Jon didn’t want to consider. He cleared his throat and looked away, nodding at the food on the counter. “Since when do you cook?”

“So you know Dacey and I have been sharing an apartment since our first year of med school, right?” At Jon’s nod, Robb continued, “Well, we both realized that if we didn’t learn to cook then we were going to be living off of pizza, Chinese, and coffee. So through a lot of trial and error, we taught ourselves to cook.”

“By trial and error, do you mean burnt meals and fire?” Jon asked mischievously.

“Not relevant,” he said, leaning over Jon to grab a knife from the knife block and the cutting board. “Anyway, now I can make a decent pasta at least. And a few other things. Don’t let Dacey cook for you though. She actually poisoned us once.”

“She did what?”

Robb nodded solemnly. “It was not a fun couple of day.”

Jon bit his lip to keep from laughing. It was not amusing that Robb and Dacey were sick. It was amusing, though, that Dacey was so bad at cooking that she gave them both food poisoning. “That’s horrible.”

“Go ahead and laugh,” Robb told him with a chuckle. “I can laugh about it now that it’s been a few years. And now that Dacey is banned from the kitchen.”

“And what’s she going to do tonight with you cooking for me?” he asked in amusement, watching as Robb deftly sliced the sausage and placed them in a skillet.

“Oh, I’m sure her girlfriend will make sure she doesn’t starve,” he said, turning the stove on low for the sausage to brown before beginning to make the sauce. Jon watched in amazement as he moved threw ingredient after ingredient into the pot, making it seem easy to whip up a vodka cream sauce from scratch.

“I can at least make the salad,” Jon offered, feeling bad about just watching Robb cook. He felt especially bad thinking how _good_ Robb looked cooking for him.

Robb gave an exaggerated sigh and gave him a put-upon look. “If you insist.”

Shaking his head, Jon gathered the ingredients from the fridge before getting a large bowl out of the cabinet. “You really are too kind,” he said sarcastically.

It didn’t take too long for the pasta to be ready, and soon they were sitting at the table with their plates.

“This is really good,” Jon complimented after his first bite of pasta. “Definitely better than anything I could make.”

Robb beamed at him. “If you think this is good, I’ll have to make you some of my move involved dishes. Just wait until you have my braised lamb. But don’t forget to save room for dessert!”

“You’re going to make me fat,” he accused as he took a sip of wine.

Robb rolled his eyes. “I’m pretty sure you’re safe.”

“So how’s med school coming?” he asked, changing the subject. “You’ll be graduating this year, right?”

“Graduating and then starting my residency, which I hear is just a joy,” he replied. “I’ll hopefully be going on residency interviews over the next two months.”

“Do you know which one you want?”

Robb shrugged. “As long as it’s in the city, I don’t care. I’m going to be a general practitioner, so I don’t need any prestige to springboard into a good fellowship after. And I’m joining Dad’s practice as soon as I’m done so I’m already pretty much set.”

“You’re lucky,” Jon pointed out with a smile.

“Yeah, well, I’ve had classmates who kind’ve resented me for that,” he said with a sigh. “I couldn’t really win with them. If I did well in class, I was being an ass and showing them up when I already had a job. If I did poorly, I was slacking off and skating by with daddy as a safety net.”

“That’s not fair,” he replied with a frown. “You worked hard to get into med school and I know you did your best in all your classes. Screw anyone who thinks otherwise.”

Robb smiled and raised his wine glass. “I’ll drink to that.”

Jon laughed, but dutifully raised his glass to clink it with Robb’s. 

Once they were done eating, Jon shooed Robb out of the kitchen. “No, you cooked. Now I’m going to clean.” Robb pouted. “Don’t give me that look! Aunt Cat would be very disappointed in me if she knew I let a guest cook _and_ clean for me.”

“I’m not a guest!” Robb protested in mock affront.

“No, you’re just someone who doesn’t live here,” he replied as he rinsed off their dishes and placed them in the dishwasher. When he looked up, he saw that Robb had moved and was scraping the leftover pasta into a tupperware bowl. “Hey! I said I’d do that!”

“Too late!” he crowed in triumphant as he closed the container. “And I’m not a guest. Guests are invited. I invited myself.”

Jon raised a brow at him as he rinsed off the pots and placed them in the dishwasher as well. “Does that make you a stalker then? Should I call the police?”

“Maybe you should call your extremely intimidating doorman to throw me out,” Robb suggested with a laugh as he put the leftovers in the fridge.

He laughed as he closed the dishwasher. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure he’s a bodyguard my parents hired for me.”

Robb gave him a sharp look. “Why do you need a bodyguard?”

“I _don’t_ ,” he said, shaking his head. “My parents _think_ I do.”

“Then why do they _think_ you do?” he pressed. “I mean, Aunt Lyanna and Uncle Rhaegar can be pretty out there, but they wouldn’t hire a bodyguard unless they thought it was necessary.”

“I think they must have gotten the wrong idea about some things in California,” Jon said evasively, not meeting Robb’s eyes. “I think this was their way to make me feel safer or something.”

“Jon,” Robb said seriously, stepping closer to him and placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Is someone trying to hurt you? Is someone coming after you?”

“No,” he answered with certainty. That had never been Ramsay’s game. Ramsay would never go out of his way to hunt Jon down. He would just manipulate Jon into coming back to him.

And Jon was the idiot who fell for it over and over again.

“You know how Mom and Dad get,” Jon continued with a roll of his eyes, trying to beat down the self-loathing that had suddenly welled inside of him.

Robb studied him for a few moments, and Jon fought the urge to squirm, feeling like all of his secrets were laid bared for him to see. “You know you can tell me anything, right?” he told him after a moment. “I would never judge you or think ill of you or anything. I’m always here for you.”

“It really is nothing,” he said with a sigh, looking down at his feet. “My mom just caught wind of the on-and-off-again boyfriend I had in California and drew the worst kinds of wrong conclusions.” Wrong because his mother could never imagine how messed up he was.

“You didn’t tell me you were in a relationship,” Robb said in an odd voice.

“I know, I’m sorry,” he replied sadly, giving him a rueful smile and hoping he would be forgiven for keeping secrets. He and Robb had never had secrets from him until Jon left for California. “It wasn’t a good relationship, and I should have ended it for good so many times. I didn’t want to admit that it was a problem, and I knew telling you would mean that I had to.”

“Did he hurt you?” he asked, hand tightening on Jon’s shoulder.

The immediate denial froze on his tongue as he looked up and met Robb’s eye. He didn’t want to lie, but the truth was too complicated. Ramsay didn’t hurt him in the way Robb was thinking. It would have been so much easier if he had, as awful as that sounded. If Ramsay’s abuse—and fuck, did it hurt to admit that it was _abuse_ —but if it had been confined to punches and kicks, fighting back would have been simpler, breaking things off easier.

Not to belittle the situations of those that were physically abused in that way, but Ramsay had used his own desires against him, had made him _want_ the abuse, as messed up as that sounded.

He must have taken too long to answer because a pained expression crossed Robb’s face. “He did,” he breathed in horror, before pulling Jon into a tight embrace. “Fuck, Jon. I’ll kill him.”

Jon shook his head, burying his face in Robb’s neck as he let himself be held. This was not how he wanted this night to go. He was suppose to be putting Ramsay behind him, not dragging him up during what was meant to be a relaxing night hanging out with Robb. 

“I’m okay now,” he mumbled, letting Robb draw his own opinions on how Ramsay treated him. “I haven’t seen him in over a year.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Robb asked, pulling back to look at him in concern.

“I just want to forget about it, honestly,” Jon replied wearily, stepping back a bit and trying to summon a smile. It came out more of a grimace, but he did _try_. “Can’t we just forget I said anything and watch a movie or something?”

For a moment, Jon thought Robb would argue but he finally nodded, steering Jon towards the living room. “I can’t promise you that I will forget about it, but I can drop it if you really want. But I’m here if you ever want to talk about it.”

Jon gave him a grateful smile as they settled on the couch and flipped the television to some mindless comedy on Netflix. Robb shifted closer to him and grabbed his hand. Jon didn’t say anything, just squeezed his hand and let his head fall against Robb’s shoulder.

Though he had planned to never let anyone in New York know about Ramsay, it was nice to not have to bottle that huge secret up entirely, he decided as he slouched further into the couch and into Robb, drowsiness hitting him hard all of a sudden.

“You’re tired,” Robb said with a frown. “I should let you get to bed.”

He shook his head. “Not yet,” he pleaded, feeling a bit too emotionally raw to be alone. “Please?”

Robb smiled at him before placing a pillow in his lap and maneuvering Jon so that he was lying with his head in Robb’s lap. Jon moaned in contentment as his cousin’s fingers began carding through his hair. “There. At least now, if you fall asleep, you won’t get a crick in your neck.”

Jon wanted to protest that he wasn’t going to fall asleep, but he could already feel himself losing that battle.

“Thank you,” he sighed as his eyes slipped closed without his permission.

If Robb said anything else, though, he didn’t hear it as sleep overcame him.

tbc…


	4. Interlude: Sophomore Year

Jon felt content as he sprawled out on the floor of Val and Ygritte’s apartment, nursing a beer that he wasn’t really old enough to drink as he watched Tormund try to act out what he was fairly certain was a movie but which Val and Sam were having a tough time deciphering.

Currently, Tormund was flapping his arms like a maniac and giving his teammates a meaningful look.

“Batman!” Val guessed, while Sam cried, “Birds! One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Next! Airplane!”

“Time!” Ygritte called, smirking at their groans.

“Give me that,” Val said, snatching the white slip of paper that Tormund had been trying to get them to guess. “ _It’s a Wonderful Life_? Why were you flapping your arms like a idiot then?”

“Every time a bell rings an angel gets his wings!” Tormund told her defensively. “What else was I supposed to do?”

Her face twisted into a frown. “Something better,” she replied in a deadpan.

“It _was_ a difficult one,” Sam said, trying to keep the peace and looking relieved when a knock at the door interrupted any potential argument.

“That’ll be the pizza,” Ygritte announced, hopping up from the couch and going to the door, returning a moment later with two large pizzas. “Time to pause the game!”

Jon managed to grab a couple of slices and retreat back to his place on the floor before the mad scramble for plates and food really started. He had missed these guys, he thought with a fond smile. The summer had been lonely, even though he had taken as many classes as he was allowed and then a couple extra just for good measure. His advisor had been skeptical, but he had managed to pull A’s in all the classes despite her misgivings.

It was easy when you dedicated all your time to studying.

Everyone else had just settled down with their plates when Jon’s phone buzzed with a text message. He grabbed his phone eagerly, sure that it was Robb, who had kept a constant stream of texts going between them ever since Jon had left New York a few days earlier.

His stomach dropped, though, as he read screen.

**_Ramsay Bolton  
_ ** _Back in town. Come over whenever you’d like._

Jon turned his phone over and didn’t answer, feeling a cold sweat break out on his brow at the reminder of his ex. It hadn’t exactly been a great break up. That was mostly on him, though. After _that night_ , he hadn’t really had the strength to face Ramsay and had opted to call him instead.

Ramsay had sighed sadly after Jon had blurted out that it was over the next morning, Sam hovering in their doorway in wide-eyed concern. Jon would have preferred Ramsay becoming angry and arguing with him. Instead, his sad reply that he understood and that he would be waiting for Jon when he finally accepted himself had left Jon floored and second-guessing himself.

He had pushed it all aside during spring finals and the summer, mostly by working himself to distraction, and it was easy to forget all about California when he was in New York with Robb and his family.

Now all the self-doubts came flooding back to him, making him wonder if he had made a mistake. Maybe that night had upset him so much because he had _liked_ it and that scared him. After all, he had _let_ it happen and he had come harder than he ever had before…

No, he told himself firmly. That wasn’t him. He wasn’t that person. He wasn’t a _sub_ , and he _definitely_ wasn’t going to be _Ramsay’s_ sub.

“You okay, Jon?” Ygritte asked, giving him a concerned look. “You look pale.”

Tomund nodded seriously. “Pale even for you.”

Sam gave him a suspicious look as he glanced at Jon’s phone, but kept quiet when Jon shook his head and tried to act normally. That, of course, didn’t stop him from questioning him once they were back in their dorm room.

“It was Ramsay, wasn’t it?” he asked, mouth pressed into a thin line as he waited for Jon’s answer.

“Don’t worry, Sam,” Jon said with a heavy sigh as he flopped onto his bed. “I’m done with him for good. He’s just trying to lure me back.”

Sam shook his head as he sat down on his own bed. “You know you can do better than him, Jon. There are probably tons of guys on campus who would be all over you if they knew you were available.”

Jon rolled his eyes. “Yeah right,” he mumbled, staring up at the ceiling.

“You know it’s true,” Sam shot back, reaching over to turn out the lamp and plunging them into darkness. “You’re smart and thoughtful and even a straight guy like me can recognize that you’re hot. You should try to put yourself out there.”

“Goodnight, Sam,” he said instead of responding to that, turning his back to Sam and staring at the wall. He didn’t sleep right away though. He couldn’t help thinking about Sam’s suggestion.

Maybe his problem was just that he hadn’t explored his own sexuality very much. That was probably why he was so confused. He had had a doomed crush on Robb for most of high school and had never even looked at anyone else. And then Ramsay had pushed his way into his life.

Maybe Sam was right and he _should_ put himself out there more. The idea kinda terrified him, but he had to push past that. 

With that in mind, he fell into a restless sleep.

 

#

 

Jon took Sam’s suggestion to heart as classes started, but he wasn’t quite sure _how_ to put himself out there. Of course, when he had made the mistake of mentioning it to Ygritte, her and Val were quick to take the reins.

The first thing they did was drag him to the mall, which Jon really didn’t think was that fair. His clothes were fine. Val had raised an eyebrow in disbelief when he said that, though, while Ygritte snorted.

“Jon, all you wear are baggy jeans, t-shirts, and flannels,” Ygritte said with a shake of her head as he followed the two girls into Macy’s, beyond intimidated by the large department store, not even knowing where to start when his friends led him to the men’s department, which apparently took up an entire floor of the four-story store.

“We’re going to find you clothes that show off that sexy body of yours,” Val told him with a saucy wink.

Jon gulped as he dutifully followed them, taking every piece of clothing they picked out and ending up with a very large stack as he entered the dressing room. He tried them all on at their insistence, allowing them to critique each outfit and trying to memorize which ones they said were appropriate for casual wear and which were more “going out” wear.

It was all very confusing to him. Growing up, his parents hadn’t given him much guidance on what to where when. Aunt Cat had been helpful whenever he had to attend his grandparents’ social functions, but other than that, he had just worn what was comfortable and that wouldn’t attract too much attention.

The clothes Val and Ygritte picked out for him were the opposite of that. Not that they were uncomfortable in the way they fit. Sure, some of the pants were a bit more tight-fitting than he would normally wear, but it was more about how they made him _feel_.

He felt overly exposed, the clothes cut so that they clung to his body. He blushed bright red as he realized how the fabric stretched obscenely over his ass and this thighs.

“I can’t go out in public in these,” he told them self-consciously as he stepped out in a particularly tight pair of dark wash jeans. The dark green button down he was wearing with them certainly didn’t help.

“Oh, I’m pretty sure you’re doing the public a disservice if you _don’t_ go out in those,” Val said with a lascivious smirk.

“I wouldn’t wear them to class or anything,” Ygritte agreed with a playful leer. “No need to have your classmates fantasizing about you in class, but those jeans are definitely a yes.”

In the end, he had walked out of the store with two large bags full of new clothes. The girls had been surprised at the money he had spent, but he decided that if he were going to do this, he had to commit. 

And he had to admit the clothes did get him more than few appreciative looks from people on campus, both girls and boys. It honestly made him feel a little queasy, but he forced himself to keep his head up and not slouch in on himself as he walked to and from classes.

He had to remove himself from that shy, anxious boy who had fallen under Ramsay’s control. He had to become someone else, no matter how uneasy it made him.

After a few weeks of wearing nothing but the form-fitting clothing the girls had picked out for him, Jon was beginning to think that they weren’t enough. Though he was getting admiring glances, no one had actually asked him out or anything. He was worried that he might need to step up and take the extremely frightening step of approaching someone himself when the barista at the coffee shop he always went wrote his number on Jon’s cup and gave it to him with a wink and a “I’m free this Thursday,” before moving onto the next customer in the very busy shop. Jon had barely had the time to glance at his name tag to find out that the guy’s name was Daron.

He agonized all week over what to do, not sure what his next move was supposed to be. Val had finally taken pity on him, stealing his phone and sending a text for him Tuesday afternoon at dinner.

_Hi Daron, it’s Jon from Cafe Java. Still free on Thursday? How does a movie sound?_

Jon panicked even more when Daron sent a text back agreeing to meet him at the movie theater at 6:30.

“Calm down,” Val said with a roll of her eyes. “It’s just a date.”

Tormund gave him a jovially grin. “He already likes you or he wouldn’t have given you his number,” he said cheerfully. “Just be yourself.”

Jon blanched at that. Daron didn’t like him. He didn’t _know_ him. He just liked the way Jon looked in the clothes Val and Ygritte had picked out. Still, when Thursday rolled around, he dressed in the dark jeans that had made him so uncomfortable in the store and paired them with the same green button down, and set out to meet Daron at the theater.

From the way his date’s eyes roamed his body with interest as he approached, Jon knew that the clothes must not look as ridiculous as they felt at least.

He let Daron choose the movie and buy the tickets while he bought them both soda and popcorn. A movie was a good first date idea, he had to hand it to Val. Staying quiet during the movie was expected, and he was only really expected to hold a conversation during the time right before the movie, which was made a bit easier by the dimmed lights.

All in all, it turned out to be a decent date. Sure, Jon didn’t feel much of a connection to the other man, but that was what dating was for, right? To build that connection? With that in mind, he agreed to a second date with Daron for the following Saturday.

Next time, they went to dinner, which was a bit more trying for Jon as it forced him to speak more. Thankfully, Daron was more than willing to take the lead in the conversation, telling Jon all about the art exhibit he was working on and telling him funny stories of things that happened at the coffee shop.

Jon let him kiss him after dinner, relishing in the slide of lips and tongue and letting Daron control the kiss. The blond pulled back with a frown after a couple of moments though. “Aren’t you going to kiss me back?”

He started at that. He thought he _was_ kissing back. His lips were moving against Daron’s, and his tongue was sliding against the blond’s. Was he doing it wrong?

“Sorry,” he said quickly, shame filling in him. “I haven’t had a lot of practice. Try again?”

Daron shook his head with a smile. “I can’t believe someone as hot as you hasn’t had a lot of practice,” he murmured before bringing their lips together once more.

Jon tried to be more of a participant this time, concentrating hard on making sure that his lips moved more firmly and snaking his tongue out to curl around the Daron’s and to explore his mouth.

He was too focused on kissing correctly to actually enjoy it much, but Daron seemed to like it if his moan was anything to go by.

Despite not talking much at dinner and finding out he was bad at kissing, Jon counted it as an okay date.

He was inexplicably nervous, though, as their third date approached. He was fretfully trying to decide which outfit to wear, wondering which one Daron would find more appealing, when Ygritte rolled her eyes from her perch on Sam’s bed.

“You don’t _have_ to sleep with him tonight,” she told him. “That’s just a stupid rule that guys made up to pressure girls into sex.”

“There’s a rule about having sex?” Sam asked cluelessly, looking up from his homework to glance between them in askance.

“Come on, Sam,” Ygritte said, giving him a disbelieving look. “You’ve heard the third-date rule.”

“I haven’t, but it sounds stupid,” he said with a shake of his before looking at Jon. “I”m sure Daron doesn’t expect you to sleep with him just because it’s the third date.”

“I _want_ to sleep with him,” Jon insisted, even though he felt sick at the thought. The whole point of putting himself out there was to explore his sexuality. He couldn’t very well do that without having sex.

He wished he could talk to Robb about all of this stuff, but he hadn’t worked up enough courage to tell Robb about his disaster of a relationship with Ramsay. Besides, Robb would just tell him that he shouldn’t do anything that he wasn’t comfortable with. 

Jon ended up wearing the same dark jeans from before with a blue shirt, figuring that Daron had definitely been attracted to him in those jeans and might be more likely to want to have sex with him if he were wearing them.

He hadn’t needed to worry, though, about Daron not wanting to sleep with him. The blond had invited him to his apartment after a quick dinner and had Jon pinned against the door as soon as it was closed.

Jon lost himself in the feel of the other man, moaning as a thigh was pressed between his legs and trying not to think about how he hadn’t known the man nibbling his neck a month ago and was now letting him see him in such a vulnerable position.

Daron grinned at him as he pulled back and led Jon to his bedroom, tugging at both of their clothes and shedding as much of them as possible before they tumbled onto the bed together.

Jon whimpered as Daron stripped him bare and ran his hands up his sides. “Fuck, you’re hot,” he said, his words causing Jon to shiver as he moved against him. He moaned as his lips were caught in another kiss, fingers clenching into the sheets in an attempt to ground himself. 

Daron pulled away with a growl. “Why are you being so fucking passive? Fucking touch me.”

He cringed internally, knowing that he had allowed himself to slip back into how he was with Ramsay. Wanting to be better, he tried to participate more actively, bringing his hands up to explore Daron’s body.

He faltered a few times when Daron’s touches became too much and pleasure caused him to lose his concentration. He fought through the haze of pleasure to focus on reciprocating Daron's touches. It was difficult concentrating on pleasing Daron, and it honestly felt like forever before he finished.

Jon let himself fall over the edge a few moments later, feeling more relief than pleasure at his own release.

It wasn’t supposed to feel like that, he knew, forcing himself not to tear up in when he was supposed to be feeling post-orgasmic bliss. But it also wasn’t supposed to hurt and leave him an emotional wreck like it had with Ramsay.

Daron spared him the agony of ending things with him a couple of days later by dumping Jon before he had the chance.

“I’m sorry, Jon, I just need someone a little more assertive and not so submissive.”

_Submissive_. The word resonated with him despite the fact that he hadn’t wanted to be with Daron anyway. Maybe it was something he couldn’t escape. Maybe Ramsay had been right about him.

He shoved the thought away forcefully, throwing himself into studying for finals with a vigor that had Sam worried about him. In this, at least, no one could call him submissive or passive. What did it say about him that his schoolwork was the only place where he felt sure of himself?

He was already dreading winter break, knowing that his parents had planned a trip to Paris for their twenties wedding anniversary and planning on spending most of his break alone at their house in New York, with far too much time to dwell on everything that was wrong with. 

To be fair, his parents _had_ invited him along, but he _really_ didn’t want to go on what was essentially a second honeymoon for them. Because they had had a Christmas wedding—well, wedding in the loosest sense of the word—their anniversary often got looked over. They deserved an anniversary vacation to themselves.

It would make his break a bit more lonely with him staying at the house alone, but he’d still get to see the rest of his family, and he was sure Aunt Cat would take pity on him and make sure he ate dinner with them at least.

At least he would be hundreds of miles from Ramsay.

With that thought, he threw himself into packing as soon as his last final was done, his flight leaving the next morning and arriving early afternoon at JFK. He was in the middle of deciding whether to take the train out to Manhattan instead of trying to fight for a cab at the busy airport when his phone rang.

He grinned as he saw it was Robb.

“Hey,” he said, holding his phone to his ear with his shoulder as he folded a pair of jeans. He was deliberately packing as few of his new clothes as possible, wanting to be comfortable when he went home. “I was just packing for my flight.”

“And I was just calling to see when your flight comes in so that I can be there on time to pick you up,” Robb replied, smile palpable in his voice.

“You don’t have to do that,” Jon said, though he was pleased at the offer. “I was just gonna catch a cab or something.”

“Jon, you know I’m picking you up,” he shot back as if the very idea that he wouldn’t was ridiculous. “And I hope you’re planning on coming hungry because Mom is pulling out all the stops with welcoming you back home for the holidays. Apparently, just because I live here, it’s not that special when my semester is over and I spend more time at the house.”

He laughed at that. Robb lived in his parents’ basement, which was a lot nicer than it sounded because there was a separate door leading to the outside and his mother had had a small kitchenette installed, but they all still poked fun at him for technically still living at home.

“Aunt Cat loves me more,” he teased.

“Everyone loves you more,” Robb said flippantly. “You’re too adorable.”

Jon rolled his eyes at that. “Yeah right.”

“Anyway, so Dad and I bought a new sofa for the basement, which was badly needed,” he continued. “And it’s got a pull-out bed that I swear is more comfortable than my bed so no worries there. I bet it sleeps better than whatever mattress you have in that dorm room of yours.”

“Probably,” he chuckled, eyeballing his bed and shaking his head. “I won’t know for sure until I try it out, I guess.”

“Well, I think you’ll have plenty opportunity to do when you’re staying here over break,” Robb said.

Jon was confused at that. “Wait, what?”

“You’re staying with us over the holidays,” he told him jovially. “We’re not going to let you stay all alone at home! Unless, you really want to, of course,” he added a tad sheepishly. “But I’m _not_ letting you spend Christmas Eve alone or bring in the New Year by yourself.”

A warm feeling bloomed in his chest as he realized that Robb and his father had gone through the trouble of buying a new sofa bed so that he would have a place to sleep over the break. Sure, it might not have been the only reason, but Jon knew that it was definitely the driving reason.

“Of course I want to stay with you,” Jon assured him. “I just didn’t want to ask when I know you’re going to have a house full.” With five children, his aunt and uncle _always_ had a house full.

“As if you even need to ask,” Robb told him. “Now, when does you plane land so I can be there on time?”

 

#

 

It was amazing how being with his family let him forget about everything that was wrong with him. As soon as he had seen Robb at the airport, something had loosened in him, and he felt at ease. Jon didn’t figure out why that was until later, after they had eaten dessert and were all lounging in the living room watching _Elf_.

He could be himself with his family.

He had never had to hide around his family. They had always accepted him just as he was, from his weird social anxiety to his stupid, dorky references. Hell, they hadn’t even batted an eye when he had come out in the tenth grade.

Jon smiled as Arya shifted next to him, lounging her back against his side and pushing him closer to Robb in the process. Robb grinned at him and moved so that Jon could slouch against him more comfortably.

He hadn’t even realized how much tension he had taken on by trying to be someone he wasn’t for the past semester until it had suddenly eased, and he was finally able to _relax_.

There was a lesson in there, probably, but he felt too content to mull it over too much. He’d think about it when he went back to Stanford.

In the meantime, he was just going to enjoy his time with his family.

tbc…


	5. Announcement

So I’m trying to sanitize my life a bit with the new year coming up and all. This is a very personal decision on my part and I don’t want to discuss it too much, but I wanted to let my readers know that this will be impacting my fics because one of the things I plan to do is to cut smut out of my life, which means no more in my fics.

My current projects will either be de-smutted and will continue on without explicit materials. This announcement was previously posted and said that Letting Go would be abandoned and deleted. I decided I couldn't do that, though, because I love this AU too much. It will continue to be updated.


	6. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I know I said I wasn't going to discontinue this story, but I've decided that it can be written without explicit material, especially since it's the psychological and emotional aspects that I enjoy the most.
> 
> Just so you know, I don't know how frequent updates will be. One of my New Year's resolutions is to focus more on my original works (you know, the ones I might one day be able to make some money on lol), but that means less time working on fanfiction, haha.

Jon groaned as he came awake before stiffening instinctually as he felt the arms around him. He felt sick as he kept his eyes pressed tightly shut. No. He couldn’t be back with Ramsay. This was a dream. A nightmare. He had left and _wouldn’t_ have gone back to him.

“Jon?” Robb’s groggy mumble interrupted his quiet panic.

All tension left him as last night flooded back to him, and he melted against Robb, burying his face in his chest. Robb. He was with _Robb_. He frowned, though, as he realized they were both crowded on his couch. He was comfortable, but as he looked up, he knew that there was no way Robb was comfortable with how he was pressed into the back of the couch.

“You should have woken me up,” he said as he reluctantly pulled away from Robb’s arms and sat up. “You didn’t have to let me sleep on you all night.”

Robb sat up as well, joints popping as he stretched his arms over his head. “I didn’t mind. And you looked like you could use the sleep.”

Jon really couldn’t deny the truth in the statement. He sighed as he glanced at the clock. “I’ve got to get dressed for work.”

“Okay, you do that, and I’ll make us a quick breakfast,” Robb suggested as he stood up with Jon.

He gave him a fond smile. “I think you cooked enough for me last night. Besides, don’t you have to get to the hospital?”

“Not today,” he replied cheerfully as he headed to the kitchen. “I don’t go in until five and then I’m on-call until seven A.M. before my normal rounds begin.”

Jon’s heart sank at the realization that he wouldn’t be able to see Robb that night. “That’s a long shift,” he said, trying to keep his disappointment out of his voice. He was being stupid, anyway. Robb was a busy med student. Jon couldn’t be selfish and monopolize his free time.

“Yeah, but I get to sleep all day today, and I get to catch naps in the on-call room between patients tonight,” he told him. “It’s not as bad as it sounds. But shouldn’t you be getting dressed?”

Jon glanced at the clock once more and cursed, rushing to his room as he realized he had about half an hour to leave the apartment if he didn’t want to miss his train.

He walked out of his room just as Robb was scooping scrambled eggs onto two plates. “I hope those have cheese on them,” he quipped as he slipped onto a barstool across from Robb.

“Of course,” he answered with a smirk, sliding a plate onto the counter in front of him before picking up his own plate. “Who would eat scrambled eggs without cheese?”

“Monsters,” Jon joked, but sobered as he looked down at his eggs as a little voice reminded him, _Ramsay ate ketchup on his eggs instead of cheese_.

He scolded himself once again for thinking of Ramsay. He had to stop. He would never be able to move on with his life if he kept thinking about his ex.

“You okay?” Robb asked, breaking through his self-flagellation. Jon’s head jerked up to see Robb looking at him in naked concern.

He shook his head and smiled. “I’m fine. Just… thinking.” From the unhappy set of Robb’s mouth, Jon knew he knew exactly what he had been thinking about. “It’s nothing,” he assured, not wanting him to worry. “I really am fine.”

“Sorry,” Robb said with a heavy sigh, setting down his plate. “It’s going to take me a while to wrap my head around everything and not be overprotective.”

Jon rolled his eyes at that. “You’ve always been overprotective,” he pointed out with a chuckle. It was true. Robb had once gotten suspended in the ninth grade for punching a senior that had been picking on Jon. 

“Sorry,” he apologized again, a rueful expression on his face. 

“No, don’t apologize,” Jon told him, shaking his head. “I’ve never minded it.”

What he didn’t say that he had always _liked_ how protective Robb was of him. It had always made him feel safe and loved. Maybe that should have been a sign for him. Maybe his attraction to Robb stemmed from his self-assumed role of protector while they were growing up.

He didn’t like thinking of his crush on Robb like that, though. He didn’t like the thought that his… fetish, for lack of a better word… had corrupted one of the most significant relationship in his life.

“Well that’s good,” Robb said, huffing a self-deprecating laugh. “‘Cause I’m not entirely sure I could turn it off.”

Jon smiled at him, sweeping his issues back into the dark corners of his mind where they belonged. “You’re going to be a great doctor,” he said with certainty. “And I’m going to miss my train if I don’t leave now.”

“Train?” Robb said in confusion as Jon grabbed his wallet and keys. “You have a car. Why are you taking the subway when you _hate_ the subway?”

He bit his lip as he shrugged into his jacket and didn’t look at Robb as he answered. “Parking is too expensive. It’s five hundred bucks a month to park in the garage next to my building.”

“Jon,” Robb said seriously as he moved around the island and approached him, placing both hands on his shoulders. Jon met his eyes hesitantly. “I know you hate crowds, and the subway during rush hour is _always_ crowded. Why do that to yourself when you have the money to pay for parking?” As Jon’s silence stretched on, anger flared in Robb’s blue eyes. “Your ex didn’t empty your trusts, did he?”

“No,” he was quick to assure. “He just… I don’t think he liked the reminder that I came from money. He was jealous and whenever I would spend money on something he thought was too expensive…” He looked down, ashamed to realize that he was letting Ramsay’s manipulations still affect him. “I’m so fucking stupid.”

“Hey, you are _not_ stupid,” Robb told him firmly. “Whatever that asshole did to you and however you reacted to it is _not_ your fault.”

Jon wished he could believe that, but Robb didn’t know the full story. Robb didn’t know that some of it _was_ Jon’s fault because he had _wanted_ it. “I really am going to be late if I don’t leave,” he said instead of answering. “You can stay as long as you want. Just lock up when you leave, okay?”

Robb nodded. “Okay. Just remember I’m here. If you ever want to talk, I’ll listen.”

He gave him a weak smile. “Thanks,” he said before leaving quickly. 

He still took the subway, but he couldn’t help but dwell on all the changes he had made in his life as a result of Ramsay. Things that had nothing to do with his own twisted desires. Like riding the subway. And the unscented shampoo that Ramsay had insisted he use. And how he never bought peanut butter anymore because Ramsay had had a peanut allergy.

He hated how he hadn’t even _realized_ how far of an effect Ramsay had had on him. Sure, he had known that, after the things he had discovered about himself from being with Ramsay, he would probably never be able to have a real relationship again, but he hadn’t known that the damage was more widespread.

How was he supposed to repair the cracks in his life when he didn’t even know where they all were?

Those thoughts kept him in a funk all day. It didn’t help that he knew he wouldn’t see Robb until at least the next evening. Probably not even then, considering how exhausted the medical intern would be after his long shift at the hospital.

It was almost too much, then, for him to descend down to the subway station that afternoon amid the claustrophobic press of people and squeeze onto the crowded train.

He _would_ get a parking pass, he decided as he tried to fold into himself during the ride. He had the money. There was no reason why he shouldn’t use it to make his life easier.

“Good afternoon, sir,” Barristan greeted him as he approached. “Mr. Stark brought something by for you after he left this morning.”

Surprised, Jon took the white envelope the doorman/bodyguard was holding out. “Thank you, Barristan,” he said absently, staring dumbly at the envelope for a moment before shaking himself out of his stupor. 

“You’re welcome, sir,” the man replied. “Your cousin Arya and her boyfriend are waiting for you in the lobby,” he continued, surprising Jon once again.

“Thank you,” he said, walking through the doors and spotting Arya immediately. 

She grinned as she spotted him and dragged the tall, muscled man next to her over to him. Jon figured this must be Gendry, though he had never met him. He really wasn’t what he was expecting from a boyfriend of Arya. His face looked far too serious and humorless for his headstrong and impetuous cousin.

He was going to reserve judgment, though, considering how terrible he had already proven to be at romance and all things related.

“We brought pizza!” Arya declared unnecessarily, given that Gendry was carrying two pizza boxes. “We got your favorite from Gino’s, even if pineapple on pizza is a travesty.”

“You must be Gendry,” Jon said, knowing Arya wouldn’t remember to introduce them.

He nodded in greeting. “That’s me. And you’re Jon. Arya hasn’t shut up about you since you moved back.”

Jon wasn’t shocked to learn that. “Robb told you where I lived,” he stated as he led them to the elevator. If she had known before now where his apartment was, she would have shown up at his door way months ago.

“You would tell Robb where you lived before you told me,” she groused good-naturedly as he pressed the button for his floor.

“Well, he did _ask_ ,” he shot back. “You didn’t.”

“Details,” she replied airily, brushing past him as the elevator opened on his floor a few moments later and looking back at him impatiently as she reached the door.

Jon glanced at Gendry, who shot him a commiserating look. He shook his head and unlocked the door, knowing it was better to just give in with Arya sometimes. Which is why he didn’t even bother to comment as she instructed Gendry to place the pizzas on the table as she began rummaging around in Jon’s kitchen for plates.

Ignoring them both for a moment, he opened the envelope Robb had left with Barristan. His heart squeezed in his chest and tears pricked at his eyes as he realized what it was. 

A parking pass. Robb had bought him a parking pass to the garage attached to his office building.

He swallowed thickly as affection surged within him. It was such a Robb thing to do. He always had to take care of the people around him, and that trait had always been particularly prominent when it came to Jon. He really should have expected Robb to take matters into his own hands and make sure Jon had a place to park near work.

“What’s that?” Arya asked, as she realized she didn’t have Jon’s attention. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he said, blinking away his tears and giving her a smile. Robb wasn’t the only Stark that was protective of Jon. “Just a thoughtful gift from your brother,” he explained to her suspicious look.

Her face cleared at that and she smirked. “Are you two…?” she trailed off with a meaningful look.

“Are we what?” Jon asked, eyes narrowed in suspicion. He wasn’t sure what she meant, but from her tone, he knew that she was smug about whatever it was that she was implying.

She rolled her eyes and let out a frustrated growl as she popped the top of the beer she stole from Jon’s fridge. “Boys are stupid.”

“Love you, too, sweetheart,” Gendry said sarcastically as he grabbed a beer from her.

“What did you mean, Arya?” Jon asked, a little annoyed and a little exasperated. He grabbed a plate and plopped two pieces of Hawaiian pizza on it. He dropped down into a chair, scowling as she just shrugged with a superior look on her face. “I forgot how much of a brat you could be.”

“That’s because you stopped visiting after your sophomore year,” Arya shot back at him with a scowl of her own. “You stopped coming home for Christmas, Jon! _Christmas_!” she accused. “You didn’t even tell us you were graduating! We would have come!”

Jon put down the slice of pizza that he had about to take a bite of, suddenly not hungry. He should have known that Arya would be confrontational as soon as she got him alone. “I’m sorry,” he said, keeping his eyes on his pizza.

“I don’t care that you’re sorry, I want to know _why_ ,” she demanded stubbornly. “I _know_ you didn’t stay away because you wanted to. You love us too much for that, and I can’t imagine anything that would make you want to stay away from _Robb_ for so long. I want—”

“Arya,” Gendry interrupted, causing Jon’s eyes to snap to him in surprise. He was giving his girlfriend a warning glare. “Can’t you just be glad to have your cousin back without pestering him for an explanation?”

She pouted at him. “But I want to know why!”

“Well maybe it’s not about what you want,” he told her with a significant look.

Jon was shocked when she deflated and turned to him with an apologetic expression. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to jump down your throat,” she said sheepishly. “That’s why I brought Gendry along. He’s usually pretty good at keeping me from doing things I’ll regret,” she added fondly.

He shook his head, amazed that Gendry had managed to get Arya to drop the subject so quickly. Usually she was like a dog with a bone. “It’s okay,” he told her with a smile. “I just… don’t particularly want to talk about it.”

“Okay,” she conceded. “But don’t bottle it up too much. It’s not healthy.”

“Promise,” he said before picking up his pizza once more. “Now what were you talking about before?”

“Nothing,” she replied, a little too innocently.

Gendry snorted. “She was talking about her theory that you and Robb are in love with each other and that you’re going to end up together.”

Jon coughed as he choked on his pizza at the words, eyes watering as he fought against the sudden coughing fit that lingered even after the food was dislodged from his throat. Arya rushed to get him a glass of water, which he drank gratefully.

“Robb and I aren’t like that,” he protested in a rough voice as soon as he was able. “Why would you think that?”

Arya gave him an incredulous look. “Really? Maybe because I’ve known you two forever and have seen the way you two act around each other. Who _wouldn’t_ think you were in love with each other?”

Jon shook his head. “You’re wrong. Robb isn’t in love with me,” he said, not bothering to deny his own feelings. He wouldn’t say he was _in love_ with Robb, but he certainly had some feelings for him. “And even if he were, it would never work.”

“There’s no reason why it wouldn’t work,” Arya told him. “You two were practically inseparable before you decided to stay in California. And my parents and your parents would be thrilled! You really think Aunt Lyanna and Uncle Rhaegar bought you this huge apartment right by Robb without the expectation that you two were going to get married and fill it with grandkids? It’s not illegal! Even if you hadn’t been adopted, first cousins can marry in New York.”

He groaned and dropped his face in his hands, leaning his elbows heavily on the table. Was Arya right? Were they all expecting him to get together with Robb?

His stomach felt like it was tied in a dozen knots as he tried not to panic. He couldn’t get together with Robb. Even if Robb _did_ feel that way about him, he’d be disgusted once he learned how wrong Jon was. Once he learned all the things Jon had let Ramsay _do_ to him.

“I can’t be with Robb, Arya,” he told her in a broken voice.

She furrowed her brow. “But you want to be,” she said in sad confusion.

“Maybe, but it’s just better if I’m not,” he replied, pushing his pizza away, his appetite having vanished. “I’m tired. I think I’m going to head to bed. You’re both welcome to hang out as long as you want.”

He retreated into his room, ignoring Arya’s sorrowful eyes. He changed into some sweatpants before going to the bathroom to brush his teeth. He heard the apartment door shut a few moments after he fell into bed, feeling so entirely alone as he realized Arya and Gendry had left.

He was startled, then, when there was a tap at his door and Arya opened it a moment later with a soft smile. “I sent Gendry home,” she explained as she climbed into bed with Jon and threw an arm around him. “I didn’t want you to be alone.”

Jon blinked away tears and shook his head. “How is it that you and Robb always know what I need?”

“We pay attention,” she replied.

“Why do you think Robb’s in love with me?” he asked in a quiet voice. “You’re not in love with me, and you and I are nearly as close.”

Arya snorted. “Yeah, but I don’t take every single excuse to touch you. And I don’t constantly worry about your well-being. Jeez, Jon, a blind man can see that Robb is crazy about you. And you love him, too. Don’t deny it!”

“I don’t,” he admitted, never hating himself more than in that moment. “But it doesn’t change anything.”

She sighed but didn’t argue with him, just burrowed closer to him in comfort. He was thankful for her presence next to him, but as sleep crept over him, he couldn’t help but wish that the arm around him belonged to a different Stark.

tbc…


End file.
